


Honey and milk are under thy tongue

by Katarik



Category: Fried Green Tomatoes (1991)
Genre: Canon Lesbian Character, Canon Lesbian Relationship, Christian Character, F/F, Happy, Oral Sex, POV Female Character, Present Tense
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-03-29
Updated: 2011-03-29
Packaged: 2017-10-17 09:12:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 843
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/175248
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Katarik/pseuds/Katarik
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ruth/Idgie, oral.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Honey and milk are under thy tongue

Kissing Idgie's always sweet, her mouth wide and laughing, dry until Ruth licks her lips soft, but the part about a wedding bed Ruth didn't know until she'd left hers and come to Idgie instead was that other places to kiss could be so *good*. Idgie's breasts, small and tanned and freckled, the skin always soft and her nipples hardening under Ruth's mouth, sucking at her skin and blowing out just to make her squirm and laugh. Laughter's the best thing Ruth thinks she could hear in a bed like this, all gold with the undrawn curtains and the sun spilling in, Idgie's hair mussed and glowing and her skin pink from flushing for want of her.

Idgie moans loud and shameless when Ruth is kissing at her breasts like this, dragging her tongue over and between them, underneath, brushing a closed-mouth kiss over her nipple again and again and again until Idgie's gasping just a little, hitching in breaths in short little pants. And her moans break off to shaking giggles when she draws in a breath and is quieter for just long enough to hear what Ruth's murmuring. "You quoting the Bible at me *again*, Ruth?"

Ruth lifts her head, smiles demure and sweet, her lips swollen with kissing. "Can't miss a chance to minister to a heathen like you, Idgie."

Idgie just keeps laughing, sprawled open under her, and Ruth's never quite understood what some of the Psalms or the Song meant, hair like goats and teeth like sheep and breasts like roes (whatever those are) but she's been looking at Idgie for a happy while, and her navel under Ruth's tongue stroking in is a round goblet which wanteth not liquor, her belly a hard lean whiskey-gold (not that Ruth would admit to knowing what color whiskey is, and not that *that* is Idgie's fault, but Ruth isn't bringing Frank here to this warm light-filled bed) meal under Ruth's teeth, salty with the sweat the sun's bringing up, skin going red where she bit and Idgie's little noises going sharper every time. The joints of her thighs are like jewels, the work of the hands of a real cunning workman, and all the proof Ruth's ever going to need that the Lord is *good* is Idgie's thighs spreading wider, Idgie's hips rocking up into Ruth's exhale, Idgie's voice groaning out her name.

Ruth's beloved is fair, so fair, peach-skin pink and wet and tart under her tongue, just the tip, stroking light and precise over top of Idgie's secret parts; Idgie cusses and Ruth smacks her, open palm thwacking high on her thigh. Idgie jumps, so Ruth lifts her head, demanding, "You think you're gonna kiss me with that mouth?"

"Soon's you let me again... " Idgie's voice shows her grin, her hips still moving, her skin reddened just a little where Ruth's hand hit.

"I hear you swear again, Idgie Threadgoode, and you won't be kissing anything but a bar of soap."

"Yes'm," Idgie murmurs, still laughing a little, the smell of her wrapping Ruth's head in dark-tangy-*want*. No sense not going back to what she'd been doing, flicking her tongue over Idgie again, smiling into her heat when Idgie just groans. The flat of her tongue spread over that little hard, spreading knot makes Idgie near to whimper, shaking and spreading herself wider, and Ruth just licks at her more, stroking her tongue over Idgie, ducking her head to push her tongue *in*, sticky warmth smearing over her cheeks when Idgie twists under her mouth. Fresh layers not even getting close to drying every time Idgie moves or Ruth shifts her head and Idgie half-sobbing out 'Ruth, Ruth, Ruth.' Closest thing to a prayer Ruth's ever heard from her, and ain't that just *like* Idgie, only devout when Ruth's got her mouth pressed in against her and teeth just barely touching that spot as makes Idgie moan so.

She's shuddering still, pressing up into Ruth's tongue and her lips, thighs tense and tight next to Ruth's head, pushing up and up and up in a needing rhythm -- like Ruth wouldn't give Idgie whatever she needed -- until she freezes, arched up, clenching *hard* under Ruth's mouth, wet slick heat spreading over her chin.

Then Idgie drops, falling back, panting and trembling and glowing with sweat, eyes closed, and times like these are the only ones Ruth's ever seen her not have a smart comeback. Ruth licks her lips and Idgie stirs, opens her eyes, grinning up at her dazed and sweet, her mouth red as a strawberry with how she must've been biting it. Ruth has to grin back, and she's the one who starts laughing as she goes down into Idgie's spread arms and the cradle of her slick thighs, laughing against Idgie's cheek when Idgie starts licking her clean and laughing too, laughing more when Ruth arches and gasps out a sharp sighing exhale for Idgie's hand sneaking up between her legs, and Idgie kisses her again and oh, oh, oh, *Idgie* --

Kissing her's so sweet.


End file.
